Lu Shuilong shouted very frantically, and it was late at night, and the white hand was a little flustered when he heard it.

I saw five or six flashlights lit up, and Lu Shuilong's house was soon surrounded.

Although the white hand was flustered, his brain was not messed up, but he did not move, ready to play a "black under the lamp".

As soon as Lu Shuilong shouted, the other party would think that the white hand had fled, so it was safer to hide in the rice field.

Not to mention, those people searched Lu Shuilong's house inside and out for ten minutes.

Finally, the men cursed and left.

They didn't embarrass the land water dragon either.

The white hand exhaled.

I'm staying at Lu Shuilong's house tonight, and as the book says, where the first cannonball fell, the second cannonball won't fall.

Lu Shuilong's family had already dropped the first shell.

If you want to catch Lao Tzu, there is no door.

Besides, why catch Lao Tzu, doesn't Lao Tzu make money, what can be wrong with making money?

He stayed on the straw stack for about ten minutes with his white hands before he slowly climbed out, dusted off the straw clippings on his body, and walked towards Lu Shuilong's house.

As soon as he arrived at the window of Lu's house, he felt that something was wrong.

There was no wind just now, but now it suddenly picks up.

The tree on the side also began to shake.

Miscalculated with no hands.

The white hand never dreamed that the people surrounding him were not from the investigation team, but from the militia of the village.

The leader is the second son of Boss Chen, Chen Yunhe.

The white hand is cunning, and the mallet knows it very well, so he played out of his desire to capture and kill a horse pistol.

The flashlight lights up.

He turned around and fled with his white hands, faster than a rabbit.

Running away, but the white-handed housekeeping ability has been exercised since childhood.

But there are many people with sticks, and they chase after each other, and there are not many paths chosen by white hands.

The mallet is smart, like a man chasing a dog, in all directions, first surrounding and then grabbing.

If he didn't have any money, he wouldn't be afraid of white hands, he just had to jump into the water and swim across the river and get rid of the mallet.

The villagers don't believe it, they dare to chase people in the water in winter.

But money is the lifeblood of white hands, and I would rather be caught than let money get wet.

Lujia Village is built on Yuzhu, surrounded by small rivers, and the road to the outside world must pass through a small wooden bridge.

The white-handed stupid ones won't run to the small wooden bridge.

More than ten people, they can't be beaten.

With a huge amount of money, you can't beat it.

The white hand panicked and only ran wildly in the field.

From east to west, from south to north, they all ran to the bank of the river with their white hands, looked at the river and sighed, gasped a few times, and then ran again.

There is no endless road.

When he ran to the northeast corner of Lujia Village, he stood on the river bank and looked down by the moonlight.

The creek was devoid of water, exposing its bed, almost connecting the two banks.

Overjoyed, he jumped off the riverbank.

Although there is no water in the river, the silt at the bottom of the river still sinks into a small half.

The white hand had already been mentally prepared, jumping into the bottom of the river and trekking hard.

They caught up.

They divided their labor in an orderly manner, and at least six continued to chase the white hands, and the rest turned around and crossed the river from somewhere else.

Just ten meters long of silt, white hands "walked" for two or three minutes, people went ashore, and their shoes were gone.

And socks, running in the fields, no problem at all.

Continue to run wild in the night.

Those who chase are also persevering.

In front of me is a small river, this small river is not the other small river, the river in the small river is turbulent.

Six people caught up, all holding the guy in their hands, but their white hands were still thinking about the money in the satchel on their chests, and they refused to turn around and be tough.

Heroes don't suffer immediate losses, and banknotes weigh a lot.

The white hand no longer hesitated, put the satchel on his head, and went down to the river to wade.

It's so fucking cold.

But the cold also stopped the pursuers.

After crossing the river, he ran again with his white hands, because he wanted to shake off his pursuers, and also to drive away the cold.

The fields are vast, and the fields are not vast.

Running and running, dark clouds covered the sky, and the white hands were disoriented.

Fortunately, the white hand shook off the pursuers behind him a lot.

Sitting on the ridge with white hands, gasping for breath, wondering where to hide.

The hole in the ground of the vegetable garden became the only one.

But in which direction?

It was getting darker and darker, and he got up with his white hands and took another step, one foot deep and one foot shallow.

As he walked, his white hands felt darker in front of him, as black as a wall.

It's really a wall.

But whose wall is this?

Walk with your white hands on the wall, turn the corner, and continue on.

Suddenly, the white hand touched something.

An iron lock, and a wooden door.

The palm of the white hand moved, and he touched the door with his hand.

In the middle of the door, there are three small holes, triangular, just enough to stick your little finger into.

The white hand was stunned, isn't this the back door of the village school.

The white hand is too familiar with this door, and the three small holes in the door are the ones he dug with a knife.

Digging out feces from the village toilet, walking through this door, occasionally skipping school, climbing the wall above this door.

Damn, next door to the village is the brigade headquarters, isn't running here to throw yourself into the net?

Thinking about it with white hands, they must have gathered at the brigade headquarters, if I stayed in the village tonight, they wouldn't have thought of it even if they wanted to.

But if you think about it further, it doesn't seem to work. When it is not a weekend, there are three teachers who are not local living in the village school, and it will be troublesome to alarm them.

Thinking further, if you hide in the village tonight, what will you do tomorrow? The village elementary school will start school tomorrow, and the teachers and students will be one hundred and fifty or six, and they will find that the trouble is even greater.

While pondering with white hands, he left the village school and walked blindly in the fields.

But the white hand immediately felt that the situation was not good.

There was a flashlight on both sides, and there was also a flashlight shining in the direction of the brigade headquarters behind him.

The white hand has understood, and beyond that is his white village.

The white hand hurriedly squatted down, next to the stone canal, and he lay down in the waterless canal.

Left and right flanked by the soldiers, there were chasing soldiers behind, and I don't know if there were ambushes in the village in front.

Seeing the situation with white hands, crawled forward along the canal.

The flashlight was getting closer, and I heard talking.

Running away is the best, and the white hand climbs faster and faster.

Finally climbed to the end of the canal.

At this time, the confidence of the white hand returned, for he returned to the familiar place.

Directly in front is a small pond, in front of the left, there is a small bamboo forest, and in the front right, there are more than a dozen mulberry trees.

Further on, there are the families of the White Village.

The white hand hesitated to go to the village or not.

Damn, the encirclement is getting smaller and smaller, and if you don't make a decision, you're going to become a turtle in an urn.

With white hands swishing up, the cat ran a few steps with his waist bent and quietly hid in the bamboo forest.

But as if people had expected it, a few lights shone towards the bamboo forest.

The white hand had no choice but to leave the bamboo forest and flee towards the village.

Unexpectedly, a gong suddenly sounded in the village.

Bang, bang, bang......

Someone shouted again.

"Thief, thief, thief."

Running away with white hands, scolding at the same time, dog days, treating Lao Tzu as a thief.

Rural people have a common hobby of catching thieves, as long as the gong sounds, the crowd will be passionate and respond to every call.

Running wildly with white hands, he saw a pile of low walls, and he jumped up to the wall without thinking about it.

The lights were still on in the house, and when he saw that the windows and doors were not closed, he went in.

Impartially, the white hand hit a person's body, and knocked out the lamp of the other person......